Pinky Swear The Red String of Fate
by Mavynn
Summary: Hermione's cute little birthmark that looks like a bow turns out to be far more than she expected. Draco never expected to find the match to his soul mark on a muggleborn. These marks only show up in old magic pureblood families. How could Hermione Granger have one?
1. Prologue

**I am re-uploading all of my chapters because they are not showing when I add new chapters and they are not updating properly.**

o~O~o

Getting in to the Greengrass home was almost ridiculously easy. They had foolishly extended an invitation to their private gala to everyone they thought was influential, with no regard for personal safety it appeared. That was their first mistake. Their second was not giving the house elves very specific times that all of their guests must leave the home. Their third was that they did not make certain the wards checked for strangers leaving the property as well as preventing strangers from getting in.

Eager to prove himself to his new friends, and never one to pass up a chance for a bit of mischief, the thief merely had to wait for his family's invitation to the event and then find a very quiet room to wait in until the other guests left and the family had gone to sleep.

Creeping about he looked for anything that was old or valuable. Something the family would make a real fuss about. And if he managed to snag a few things that he kept for himself to fuel his own lifestyle without having to go to his parents for money? Well, he knew that his friends would not begrudge him that little indulgence.

The Greengrasses were going to learn the price they would pay for failure to recognize their true lord and ruler. The Dark Lord did not tolerate neutrality. Alastor Greengrass had been called upon to submit his family fortune and influence to their cause and had refused. He would now pay the price for that refusal. They needed serious financial backing and influence if they were going to bring the Dark Lord back from where ever he had been banished to after that dark night at the Potter's.

Entering in to a room he quickly recognized as a nursery, the thief knew the price the Greengrasses would pay for their neutrality.

Grabbing a large pillow, and with a grin of pure malice, he approached the first of the twins.

Finishing with the first twin, he turned his attention to the second. Before he could complete his work he heard someone approaching. Pulling his broom from the pack on his back, and securing the loot he already had in the same pack, he fled out the window and out above the Greengrass manor before anyone had a chance to see and identify him.

His friends had been distinctly unhappy and ungrateful for his contributions.

"Where do you think we are going to offload THIS? I swear getting a niffler would have been more useful than sending you out." The woman swore at him slapping the back of his head.

"It has to be worth something!" he shouted, looking over all of his loot "What about this?" he poked his largest item.

"Too recognizable, ALL of this is too recognizable! Get rid of it!" The older man shouted at him. "We will take care of your blunders this evening!"

Gathering up the offerings he had laid before them he sped out once again in to the night. This stuff was _not_ easily offloaded, he had to admit. And worse, if he just left it laying about someone could tie it back to him…

With a stroke of inspiration, he made his way to the Leaky Cauldron and in to muggle London. Finding a bus that was reminiscent of the Knight Bus, but with no beds, or hot cocoa or anything that made that particular death trap at all inviting the thief made his way on to the bus. A quick wave of his wand made certain the driver did not ask too many questions and after a couple of stops he simply got off of the bus and left his package behind.

There, that should make certain no one came sniffing around he or his companions. No one was going to look for the Greengrass treasure in muggle London!

o~O~o

The Daily Prophet's headlines screamed the news the next day "Greengrass Twin Found Smothered in Cradle." Photographs of a devastated Alastor and Antheia Greengrass were plastered across the front page, gruesome in their intrusion into the family's private hell, but the wizarding world could not get enough of the gory details.

The Dark Mark had been fired in to the sky above the home, some said it had even been carved in to the infants body. Rumors that the rest of the family had been gruesomely assaulted as well made their way in to the streets. Those rumors proved unfounded, as did the desecration of the child's corpse.

But the Dark Mark was true enough, and its writhing, twisted, vile image made the front page for days afterwards as every reporter wanted at go at their pet theories.

The funeral was a somber affair. The Ministry managed to keep the press back away from the Greengrass property where little Astoria Greengrass would be laid to rest in the family tomb.

In a nod to pureblood traditions, she was being entombed with a stuffed toy house elf. The old traditions demanded a house elf be sacrificed to be buried with the child so they would have a nanny in the afterlife. While it was whispered that in some of the more extremist families this was still done, most opted for the symbolic stuffed toy. It kept the tradition alive enough so that no one hissed "blood traitor" in the streets at them for failing to uphold pureblood traditions, but did not make a splash across the front page that killed political aspirations.

Working on every single detail and planning for every eventuality, kept Antheia from going mad.

Alastor was a broken man. After the funeral, he withdrew from public life and poured all of his energy in to his remaining twin, Daphne.

The thief had attended the funeral. He barely held back his grin that would have given him away. This was all too delicious. Fondling his wand he wondered if he could get away with casting the Dark Mark again to proclaim his Master's victory over this traitorous family. Deciding against it, he left early before his actions or facial expressions could give him away.

The Greengrasses never fully recovered from the death of their young daughter, although Daphne was a delight to them in every way. They pampered and spoiled her shamelessly. They went on to have one more child, a son born in the spring who they named Pallas.

Both children would go on to be sorted in to Slytherin, yet like their parents before them maintained neutrality in the second wizarding war, wanting nothing to do with Voldemort's rise and fall, only wishing to live as normal a childhood as possible..


	2. Head Boy and Head Girl

Hermione was excited to be on her way back to Hogwarts It almost felt like her first year when she had known nothing except the excitement of a new life of magic.

This year there would be no Voldemort, no Death Eaters. And as much as she hated to admit it, no Ron and Harry to interrupt her studies. They were off in Auror training probably trying to get someone else to research their homework for them, she giggled to herself. No drama, she sighed leaning back in to the comfortable cushioned seats of the Head's car. Just a full year of academic bliss.

Hermione had been a bit surprised to be offered the head position. She had assumed it would go to some well deserving seventh year. But Headmistress McGonagall clearly had other ideas. Hermione stopped short of thinking the word "agenda" but the Head Boy sitting across from her suggested there was more to this assignment than just her stellar grades and winning personality.

Well, more than Draco Malfoy's winning personality anyway.

Hermione looked over her book at the pale blonde across from her. She had to admit he had recovered his looks and then some over the summer. His chest had filled out and his looks were not so much angular and sharp now, more chiseled like a sculpture.

He would have been a prime candidate for Head Boy had there been no war. He was popular and a good student. They had tied for top marks. But she doubted that was McGonagall's purpose. No, she was certain it had to do with mending bridges and playing nice in the quidditch pitch.

Hermione was getting a little sick of her reputation being used to fuel the agendas of others. McGonagall may have a nobler purpose than many, but it still grated on her nerves.

She had not realized she was staring until he looked over and sighed "What do you want Granger?"

Slightly embarrassed at being caught checking him out, Hermione asked "Isn't it about time we met with the Prefects for their initial assignments and to introduce ourselves?"

Sneering he said "I doubt either of us needs an introduction, the Golden Girl and the Death Eater. They know who we are Granger."

Not knowing how to respond to the last comment she nodded. "Of course. But we should still give them assignments and…"

Sighing Draco stood "Come on then" he said heading towards the door. They both reached for the door handle at the same time. Hermione realized this was the closest she had ever been to Draco physically and she could not say she was entirely unaffected.

Trying to look anywhere but at him she noticed the hand he had rested on the door. Frowning she bent forward a bit to get a closer look.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing _now_ Granger?" Draco asked exasperatedly.

"Your birthmark… on your pinky I have never seen another one." Looking closer she noticed it did look exactly like the one she had. A little port wine stain (*) that ran in what looked like a string around her own pinky and ended in the shape of a small red bow. Looking at his she decided there must be something in the way the veins ran that caused this formation.

Draco shrugged and then froze. "What do you mean _another_ _one_? Have you… seen one before?"

Holding up her hand Hermione showed him her birth mark. "Yes, I have the same one. It must be a very specific way the capillaries encircle the fingers that causes this specific look."

"mmmhmmm" Draco murmured noncommittally and opened the door. He quickly made his way to the Prefect car.

If Hermione did not know better she would swear Draco Malfoy had just practically run from her.

Frowning but shrugging she made her way to the Prefect car and joined Malfoy in giving out immediate instructions and assignments.

o~O~o

Once at Hogwarts, Hermione and Draco went their separate ways. Very few of his old friends had returned, and even fewer of those were still speaking to him, but Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott were still in his orbit.

Their Head common room was large enough and well enough appointed that even when both were entertaining they did not need to be in one another's way. Comfortable couches and chairs were arranged in such a way as to provide reading and conversational areas. Two fireplaces made certain they would never get cold and their bedrooms were large with en suite restrooms. Oddly enough unlike the other dorms these bedrooms were directly across from one another.

Her nerdy bookworm love was almost entirely sated by the large research library that had been set up for them as part of their perks. There were no restricted tomes, but with Voldemort and his Death Eaters gone she could not imagine any reason she would need them.

While Draco and Hermione were not likely to get in each other's way, she had to admit it was not as though she intended to do a great deal of entertaining. Ginny and Luna had both returned and all three would now be in the same classes.

Their first week back at Hogwarts was absolutely dull and dreadfully boring. Hermione loved every moment of it. She was able to color coordinate her study schedule and set up a workable rotation plan for the Prefects.

o~O~o

During the second week while writing an essay for Ancient Runes in their common room Hermione noticed Draco staring at her hand. When he noticed her looking at him he quickly looked away.

She had been surprised at how little she saw of Draco. They patrolled one night a week, which they had done once with very little speaking, studied and shared their space in silence and lived almost as though the other did not exist.

"Malfoy…" she started tentatively "is there… is there something odd about my birth mark?"

"How would I know about your birth mark Granger?" He asked standing up and walking off.

Something in his tone bothered her. He knew something. The mark on her hand meant something. The next day with determination she went to the library and after searching through book after book she finally found a reference in a book on Soul Magic: _The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the concept of soulmate or a destined flame._

But according to this book this particular magic only showed up in very old pureblood families. It was an ancient form of magic. She was certainly no pureblood.

And more over, the person whose thread matched was her destined mate. And there was no bloody way that Draco "I Hate Everything Muggle" Malfoy was her predestined mate.

o~O~o

* For those unfamiliar: Port wine stain: A mark on the skin that resembles port wine (porto) in its rich ruby red color. Due to an abnormal aggregation of capillaries, a port wine stain is a type of vascular malformation (vascular birthmark). A port wine stain on the face is a sign of the Sturge-Weber syndrome.


	3. Not Her Mate

**Chapter 2**

 **For my reviewers:**

 **Muzzarae: Glad you have enjoyed the start, I hope you enjoy the rest as much.**

 **Chapou69: I have never enjoyed Pureblood Hermione stories myself, I am trying to stretch myself, I hope I do it justice for those who do enjoy them! Lt me know how I do!**

 **AuntCori: Thank you!**

 **LullabyTales: At the moment Astoria is believed by the wizarding world at large to have been murdered by the thief, and it certainly appears as though Draco knows enough to make him uncomfortable, no?**

o~O~o

Hermione was not certain what to do with the potential information she had found about the mark on her pinky. It was absurd to think it was a soul mark. It could not be. She was NOT a pureblood. She was muggleborn

Wasn't she?

The only one who could help her figure this out would not cross a quidditch pitch to curse her.

Right?

Then why did he keep staring at her hand?

And why did he have a similar mark?

It took her three days of research before she remembered she was not entirely alone at Hogwarts. She had two other friends at school both of them pureblood witches, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley.

And both of them were due to study with her that very evening. If she could not discuss this with Draco Malfoy, and she could absolutely NOT discuss this with Draco Malfoy, she could certainly discuss it with her two closest girlfriends.

Collecting from the library every book she could on soul marks and birthmarks and every other mark she could she waited for the two to show up.

In the mean while she made snacks and drinks.

Draco came in and saw the books she had laid out. Picking one up he frowned at it.

"What are these Granger?" he asked.

Blushing she said "Reseasrch."

"In to…?" he dropped the book like it would cause him damage to continue to hold it.

"Soul marks…" she said replacing the book with the others.

"I can see that" he said rolling his eyes "WHY are you researching soul marks?"

"I…" she was spared having to explain her reasoning when Luna and Ginny entered in through the Gryffindor portrait. Glaring at her suspiciously Draco retreated to his side of the common room.

Like all good girlfriends, Luna and Ginny instantly sensed there was something bothering Hermione. Draco glaring at her across the room and pretending he wasn't of course, helped cement this in their minds.

"We need to help Hermione think positive thoughts, Ginny, wrackspurts are bothering her" Luna said immediately upon entering the common room.

Both Ginny and Hermione smiled at their friend. "Thank you Luna" said Hermione, "but the wrackspurts are going to have to wait this time. I need help with research more than positive thoughts."

Luna smiled brightly "Hermione Granger, in your case, positive thoughts and research are one and the same thing."

All three girls laughed "Touche Luna, touché."

Ginny picked up a book "Soul marks and the Modern Witch? What in Merlin's name are you researching Hermione? You don't believe in fate or prophecies."

"I beg to differ, I spent the last seven years of my life controlled by a prophecy." Hermione reminded her. "One spouted by a woman I positively detested."

"Alright, that is true, but soul marks? Where is _this_ coming from?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Probably nothing. In fact I am almost certain it is nothing. I just need to make certain it is absolutely nothing." Hermione said

"OK, what is this absolutely nothing?" Ginny said gently noting her friend's distress.

Hermione showed her the tiny bow on her pinky. Ginny was surprised she had never noticed it before, but it was a very tiny mark, not something one was likely notice unless it was pointed out.

"Oh. Ummm… Ron does not have one…" Ginny said.

"It is just a birth mark, right?" Hermione asked desperately.

Luna and Ginny looked at each other. "No, not really, Hermione." Luna said "Do you know who has the mate?"

"No." Hermione said firmly.

Luna and Ginny looked at each other again.

"It is not possible for me to have one," Hermione said "These are only found in pureblood families. OLD pureblood families. I am _muggleborn._ I cannot have one."

"That mark says otherwise, Hermione." Ginny mused. "Is it possible you are adopted?"

"What pureblood family would adopt out a witch?" asked Hermione. "A squib perhaps, but not a witch. And my parents would have told me."

"Can you ask them?" Asked Luna.

"I… can try." Hermione said evasively.

"I know it is uncomfortable but you need to try." Said Ginny.

After another hour or so of conversation on the nature of soul marks Ginny and Luna left Hermione and went back to the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione sat with her head in her hands for a long time before she felt a presence. Looking up she saw Draco Malfoy sitting across from her looking at her contemplatively.

"There is no chance that a pureblood family would have adopted out a witch." He said.

"You think I don't know that?" she snapped.

"Why didn't you tell them about my mark?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"Why can't you ask your parents if you were adopted?" he asked her over tented fingers.

"To protect them during the war I obliviated them. Before I could recover their memories they were killed in a car accident." She said looking in to the fireplace.


	4. Not His Mate

"Alright, well your parents would not have been the only ones in the room when you were born" Draco said, more than a little uncomfortable at the bomb shell she had just dropped. He was never very good at comforting anyone in times of crisis. Blaise or Theo he could just hand firewhiskey to, Pansy demanded he hold her and hand her his handkerchief. Merlin, Granger would not want that would she? Firewhiskey he could do… he began searching frantically.

When she did not make a sound he dared sneak a peek at her. She was just staring in to the fire. What she had just told him would have shattered most women, hell, most men too, but she just seemed determined to hold it all in.

Was it Gryffindor bravery? Or something else? And did it make him a complete lecher to be standing there admiring the way the fire light brought out gold highlights in her hair?

He noticed he was staring and continued searching for the firewhiskey bottle. Why could he never find alcohol when he actually needed the damned stuff?

"Granger?" he dared continue handing her a glass of the firewhiskey he had finally found stuffed behind one of the couch cushions. Damned Theodore Nott. That was where that arse had been sitting last. They would be having a long conversation about where alcohol was to be replaced next time he visited.

Nodding her thanks she said "Doctors. Nurses."

"Fleebles. Sleeznols. I can make up words too Granger. What are you on about?" He sat across from her with his own drink.

"No, doctors and nurses are muggle healers. They would have been present at the hospital when my mother gave birth to me." She looked at him amused.

"Well then, all we have to do is locate the hospital you were born in, find the healers who were present and prove the circumstances of your birth. Just like that your bow becomes a birthmark and the issue is laid to rest." She rolled her eyes at how smug he looked.

She did not have to wonder at why he was so eager to assist her. The matter of the mark on her hand had clearly unsettled him. IF it was a soul mark and IF it was a match to his… no… the ramifications of that were enough to forge a temporary alliance of convenience.

"In the meantime," she suggested "I would find out who your actually match is, that will settle your situation."

He nodded "How will you find out information in to the circumstances of your own birth? Do muggles have their own Ministry?"

"Of a sort, but I will start by going to my muggle home. I kept everything there. My father's home office should have all of our paperwork, and it is time I settled our affairs. Harry has been after me to make some final decisions anyway, and now is as good a time as any." She stared in to the now empty glass.

He was glad he was not having to make final arrangements for his own parents. His father was a an aresehole, loser tosser who had sold them out to a madman, but he was still his father. And his mother was the light of his life. One he now had to protect from any further machinations of the aforementioned arsehole, loser tosser. It would have been better for them all if his father had served a nice long stint in Azkaban but the Ministry had decided against it in light of their defection at the end of the war.

Not wanting to examine why the thought of Harry Potter assisting her with this bothered him, he ignored it and refilled her glass. It really wasn't any of his business, he reminded himself. Which is why it surprised both of them when he said "I will take you, Harry is out of town on Auror training and the quicker this gets handled the better."

Nodding, she said "Alight, we can go this weekend."

If she thought him a madman for wanting to go with her she at least had the good graces to keep her thoughts to herself. Or maybe it was the firewhiskey. Or maybe she thought it was the firewhiskey he had consumed.

Whatever, he would take it.

With a plan in place they both went upstairs to bed.

The next day Draco owled his mother asking to meet with her regarding the mark on his pinky.

He received an almost immediate response asking for him to meet with her at a restaurant for dinner to discuss it that same night.

As Narcissa was not known to do anything immediately, this struck Draco as extraordinarily odd. Nothing was an emergency to the woman who made plans weeks in advance for something as simple as shoe shopping.

Narcissa insisted on meeting in an establishment known not only for its exclusivity, but also for protecting the privacy of its patrons. Each table was protected by the best silencing and darkness spells. Narcissa embraced and kissed her only child, pleased to still be able to do so. There was a time in the very recent past when she had not been so certain she would see him live to adulthood. That he would ever have his own children to love as fiercely as she loved him.

"Draco, why the sudden interest in your mark? You have never shown the slightest interest before now?" she asked after pleasantries had been exchanged.

"I have met someone with the same mark mother, but… it is unlikely, I am trying to prove it is not the mate to mine." He knew he was babbling, but could not seem to help it.

Narcissa had never seen her son look so flustered. But in this she could at least set his mind at ease. "I can tell you, Draco, it may look similar, but there can be no doubt it is not the mate to yours, the child born with the mate to yours died as an infant. She was murdered in her cradle. That is why I wanted to meet here. It was a highly publicized affair. There is no gain in bringing up that very painful event again. Her parents would not thank us for it."

Gain, of course his mother would couch it in those terms first. That was after all the pureblood way. Well, the aristocratic pureblood way, he corrected, thinking about some of the lower class purebloods he knew. He doubted the Weasleys thought that way. Or that Loony Lovegood.

Still… murdered as an infant… Draco was stunned by this news. Then there was no possibility Granger, even if she did turn out to be some long lost pureblood princess was his soul mate. "Who… who was she?"

"Draco… it really no longer matters, the mark is now no more than a curiosity. You are not bound by it any more than any other birthmark, I suggest you put it behind you. This other young lady and her soul mark, she has a young man, or woman, these things can go either way you know, who she is the perfect mate for, waiting for her. You are off the hook so to speak. Leave it alone." Narcissa patted her son's hand fondly.

"I... won't go stirring up trouble mother, I just wish to know."

"Oh, very well" Narcissa never could deny her son anything "The young lady who was murdered was the twin of a young lady in your year, Daphne Greengrass, her name was Astoria Greengrass."

Draco could not get Astoria out of his mind. The woman who would have been perfect for him. Smart. More than smart. His intellectual equal in all ways. She would challenge him. His thoughts, his ideals. She would be beautiful. With long wavy brown hair. Snarky. Brave. He stopped when he realized he was describing and picturing Hermione Granger.

Not his soul mate. Someone else's. His was dead and buried.


	5. Bonding Over Curry

Draco returned to their common room to find Hermione curled up with a cup of tea and a book. Naturally. He would be dragged around the grounds by the testicles before admitting it but most nights he wished he could do the same. It was a few moments before he realized she was sound asleep on her couch.

She must have charmed her mug to stay hot and not to fall over if she fell asleep holding it. Silly witch. How often did she fall asleep read before those two charms become normal. He was surprised to find himself smiling down at her.

Shaking his head he grabbed a blanket and covered her up removing the mug and book from her hand and placing them on the table. Without opening her eyes she reached out and took his hand giving it a gentle squeeze she said "Thank you." In a very sleepy voice.

Even though he knew she was asleep and thought he was one of her friends he felt his chest tighten at her words. Until she frowned slightly "Draco?"

"Yes Hermione?" he was not certain he had ever heard her say his given name before. Or had he ever said hers…

"Did you mark my page in the book?" Of course she was worried about her page in the book. He shook his head. Silly witch.

"Thank you Draco. There is tea in the pot if you want some." With that she burrowed further under the covers and went back to sleep.

She had taken his hand and thanked him and said his name. And she had known it was him.

Did it mean anything? _Could_ it mean anything?

He looked down at the tiny bow on his pinky.

No probably not.

But did he _want_ it to mean something?

When he woke the next day he noticed at some point she must have gone to her room the blanket was folded neatly over the back of the couch and the mug and book were gone.

In a few minutes she joined him downstairs dressed in muggle clothing. A pair of very tight trousers and a light pink jumper that showed off her curves in a way that no school uniform ever had. She was clutching a purse.

"I am going to my parents... well... I guess my home now." She said by way of greeting. "I will let you know what I…"

"I thought we had decided I would be joining you, or have you changed your mind and decided to take Potter after all?" he sneered.

"No." she looked down. "No one else knows about my parents. I would… like to keep it that way for awhile longer."

He did not know how to respond to that. He knew that Lovegood had not known, Hermione's responses to her the night she and she-Weasel had come over proved that. But he had no idea _no one_ else knew. Not even Saint Potter and the Weasel.

"Don't move." He said. Going upstairs he put on a black turtle neck and a dark pair of trousers.

When he came back down Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to stand there all day checking me out Granger, or are we leaving?" he smirked.

"You wish Malfoy. You are barely passable. No one is going to stop and stare at us on the streets anyway." She said rolling her eyes.

"Oh I think we both know that's not true." He smirked at her again adjusting his turtleneck.

"Nice to see your arrogance survived the war intact." She said teasingly.

His heart skipped a beat did Hermione Granger just tease him? "And your insufferable eye roll madam." She nodded her head graciously and motioned towards the door.

Both were so engrossed in their quips and taunts they did not notice how many people stopped to stare at them in confused horror as they walked by. Was that really their Golden Girl with the former death eater? Laughing like old friends?

Only Ginny and Luna did not seem surprised. They shared knowing smiles as Hermione walked right past the two of them and never noticed they were sitting there.

After making their way to Hogsmeade where they could apparate Draco stopped and asked "Do you want to get a bite before we go?"

Hermione hesitated "errrmmm…"

"Oh right, can't have the wizarding world's princess being seen with the likes of…" she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"It isn't that... I am just a little… I have to go back home where I obliviated my parents you know…?" she said in a whisper.

Oh. Right. Now he felt like a real arse. "Well, are you going to feel like eating _after_ we leave?"

She shook her head vehemently "Definitely not."

"Then we eat now. Only maybe not…" he looked around at all of their classmates who were suddenly quite interested in their shoes and clouds. "Certainly not here."

"The Leaky Cauldron?" she suggested.

"And be splashed across the front page of the newspaper tomorrow?" he frowned.

"Right… your parents wouldn't be too keen on that…" she looked down.

"That isn't what I meant…" he said uncomfortably, except that was exactly what he had meant. He did not want his mother getting suspicious about soul marks…

"No, I understand… Harry and Ron would not be thrilled either. How about a muggle place? No one knows either of us and we can just…be? Unless you would rather not?" she hesitated.

"No, that sounds perfect." He was not happy with being reminded that neither his family nor her friends could stand the thought of them going out to lunch as… as what? They weren't friends he had to remind himself. They were at best research partners of convenience. So why did that thought anger him?

Once they were able to apparate in to muggle London it was easy to find a nice little curry restaurant where they could eat in peace. He bullied and distracted her until she managed to eat everything he ordered for her. Left to her own devices she would have ordered flat bread and tea.

Over lunch they discovered they had quite a few things in common besides the love of academic studying. There were several charities they were both passionate about.

"Did you think Malfoy's cared about nothing? Dragon Pox affects everyone Hermione, it is important that research into a cure is developed. And fiendfyre burns cannot be healed by normal magic. So of course we donate to hospitals and healing research." He said over their dessert.

"Alright, you have me there, but the preservation of historical buildings?" she said, popping another fried sweet into her mouth and licking the honey from her fingertips, an action he found far too interesting.

"The preservation of history and traditions? Really? You don't see the connection?" he asked archly.

"OK, perhaps that was a stupid question." She laughed.


	6. The Safe

As surprisingly lovely as their lunch had, it had to come to an end.

Hermione found herself and Draco standing at the front door to her parent's home. She still had trouble thinking of it as her home alone. It was still beautiful. The small charms she had cast upon it kept the lawn looking lush, the stoop swept and cobwebs at bay. The beautiful brick façade showed no sign of wear.

Draco was mildly surprised. The home Hermione had grown up in was not as large as his Manor, but it was certainly larger than he had expected. It was clear Hermione had not grown up as destitute as her frumpy clothes of youth and her strange affiliation for the Weasleys might suggest. Although he had to admit, looking at her now, those frumpy clothes were a thing of the past. She looked well put together and very comfortable in the affluent neighborhood she had grown up in.

Whispering a simple 'alohomora' Hermione opened the front door. The home was as immaculate inside as it was outside. Hermione froze running a hand over the wooden staircase rail she was standing next to.

Upstairs, third door on the left was her father's office. She knew exactly what she would find in there. A large mahogany desk covered with framed pictures of Hermione and her mother. A painted rock Hermione had once given her father for his birthday acted as a paper weight.

The cliché of a safe behind a painting was great for movies, but Hermione knew in her father's office the safe was a large heavy box bolted to the structure of the home. It would take dynamite or a very powerful spell to remove that safe.

Odd to think then that a simple spell would open it for her, Hermione mused.

Next to that was her bedroom. It was filled with all of the little treasures of her past. There were the scrapbooks where she had saved theater and museum tickets. One scrapbook was for Hogwarts with her letter of acceptance. Pictures of her and her friends covered the walls. All spelled to be perfectly still when muggles came in of course.

Her mother's office was directly across from her father's, furnished very similarly but had no safe. Hermione smiled to think how alike her parents had been in taste and temperament. They were perfectly suited to one another. If there was to be any information found, Hermione knew it would have to be in her father's office but she still paused to look in on her mother's before she moved forward.

Draco watched the conflicting emotions cross Hermione's face. Sadness, fondness, nostalgia all moved across her features. He had an unreasoning urge to reach out and comfort her but did not dare. He was certain Hermione would not want him to embrace her even as a gesture of kindness.

Moving slowly but deliberately Hermione made her way to her father's office where she confronted the large safe. Running her hands along its face lovingly Hermione murmured 'alohomora' once again and listened as the tumblers of the safe clicked in to place and the door swung open. She pulled out packets of paper and brought them to the desk.

Draco could not help but think that such a box was at best a false sense of security. Why didn't they have a vault somewhere? Did muggles not use those?

Looking up at Draco Hermione said quietly "My parents did not drink alcohol much but there is a bottle of brandy. Would you… would you care for a glass?"

Although he was suspicious about the quality of muggle alcohol Draco never the less agreed to a glass. He knew Hermione was merely using it as a delaying tactic but he did not mind. They were in no hurry. She could take as long as she needed. He was pleasantly surprised to find the brandy quite palatable.

Hermione picked up and studied the silver letter opener on her father's desk. Another gift from her for another birthday.

Hermione reached for the first packet. Receipts for payments.

The second was life insurance policies. She had not needed these as she had a separate copy with her parent's barrister. Proving they were deceased had been a bit more difficult as they died believing they were someone else, but eventually it had been achieved.

The third packet held important documents. Her parents' marriage certificate. Their birth certificates. As much as she would like to believe the presence of a birth certificate meant she was biologically the child of Richard and Jean Granger, she knew that was not the case.

Hands trembling she reached for the fourth and final packet.

Draco watched Hermione's nerves almost get the better of her. He was ready to ask if she wanted him to open the envelope when with a slight shudder, she slid the letter opener through the manila packet and reached inside to remove the documents.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione stood up and left the room. Not saying a word, Draco followed her.

Hermione walked in to her favorite room in the house. The music room. It always soothed her. She always wished she had enough time at Hogwarts to join the music program, but dedication to Harry had always come first. She did not regret her decision, but once in awhile felt a twinge of sadness for what could have been for all of them.

She placed the documents in her hand on the beautiful white baby grand piano that had been the source of her comfort as a child. She had taken hundreds of hours of lessons at this piano. Now she let its smooth finish calm her soul as she sat down at the bench.

Once she had seated herself comfortably at the piano Hermione allowed her fingers to move along the scales before settling on to one of her favorite compositions. (*)

Draco listened to the haunting music that poured from Hermione's fingers. It seemed magical and beautiful, but sad and horrifying at the same time.

Gently, waiting for her to protest he picked up the documents she had laid down. When she did not stop him, he looked them over.

Adoption records.

It took him a few moments to realize that although her eyes were closed she was silently weeping. Tears seeped from under her long ashes leaving trails down both cheeks.

Carefully sitting at the bench next to her Draco slowly, in case she bolted, wrapped an arm around her waist in comfort.

After she finished her song Hermione turned in to Draco's chest and wept for all of the memories that would never be. The conversations she would never have with her parents.

After only a moment's hesitation, Draco pulled her close and slowly rubbed her back as she cried against him.

Draco learned one thing in that moment. Astoria Greengrass was the past. Whoever the other woman might have been to him had she lived, she was not that now. And if Hermione's soul mate were still alive, he had yet to make an appearance.

Hermione could only think how nice it felt to finally be able to grieve her parents death. Perhaps it was time she stopped being so insular and allowed her friends to comfort her as well.

They sat that way for a very long time, just content with one another.

If it seemed odd to either of them that former childhood enemies were giving and seeking comfort from one another, neither mentioned it.

(*)wwwDOTyoutubeDOTcom/watch?v=PVAWqGj33T8&list=PL345C6C29EBDCEB7E&index=11

Adrian von Ziegler – Even in Death is the song Draco hears Hermione playing on the Piano.


	7. The Safety Deposit Box

Gently pushing herself away from Draco, Hermione sat forward. "You realize all this proves is that I am adopted? Not where I originally came from?"

Every the pragmatic, he almost smiled. "Of course. But it is a start to your history."

Hermione stared bleakly down at the manila envelope sitting on the piano. The ordinariness of the envelope taunted her. Anything could be inside. Report cards, receipts, family vacation photographs. Anything at all really.

But it wasn't _'anything'_ it contained records that threw her entire life in to question. Who was she? Where had she come from?

"It is likely I am just an ordinary muggleborn from a different family." The idea that she was pureblood was ridiculous.

"You are not an _ordinary_ anything, Hermione." Now why had he said _that_ out loud? It was likely to lead to a misunderstanding "I mean…."

She waved it off "I know what you mean, it takes a special kind of swot to look like they are literally going to explode if they don't answer a question."

They both laughed, and if the laughter was a little awkward for both of them neither mentioned it.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what he had meant by that comment. She was also left more than a little affected by the way he had held her while she wept. But that was all purely physical. It was her need to affirm life in the midst of her parent's death. Nothing more.

Absolutely nothing more.

Draco was in his own turmoil worried that she had taken his comment differently than he had meant it. Except that even he was not certain how he had meant it.

Standing up, Hermione wandered over to all of the pictures on the wall. Those of her growing up. She had immediately replaced them once her parents memories had been restored.

She went one by one, through her infant pictures all the way to the summer that she had obliviated them. She finally noticed the one thing missing.

"I can't believe I never saw it before…" she whispered.

Draco had followed her looking at all of the pictures. Including one of her holding someone's baby in her arms. Something about that picture caused his heart to squeeze painfully in his chest.

He finally remembered she had said something. "Noticed what, Hermione?"

"No newborn pictures. Nothing from the hospital. My parents tried for so long to have a baby. So many miscarriages and still births. It is now obvious, they would have taken so many pictures of my birth and the pregnancy. They would have covered walls with them. But there isn't a single one. I should have questioned that." She ran her hand across the first one of her as an infant. She looked maybe three months old.

"You have been a little preoccupied since starting Hogwarts." Draco said soothingly "It really isn't a wonder that you did not notice small details in what must have once been a safe haven." He sounded so sad.

"That is one more thing we have in common." Hermione squeezed his arm on the way past. "Come on, let's find out if there is any decent tea left."

Following her downstairs Draco wondered what she had mean 'one more thing in common'.

Digging around in the cupboards Hermione found a tin of tea that was still in good shape and put a mug out for each of them. They sipped their tea in silence for a while before Draco's curiosity got the better of him.

"What did you mean when you said we had one more thing in common?" he asked.

"This home was my oasis in some very dark times. Now it is just a reminder of those who wanted me dead." She stared in to her tea swirling the leaves around at the bottom. "I imagine you must feel the same way about your childhood home."

He felt exactly that way but he wasn't sure how vulnerable he wanted to be in front of her just yet. While considering a response he picked up the envelope her adoption papers had been in and felt something heavier than papers settle to the bottom "What is this?" he murmured shaking the envelope and dropping a key into his hand.

Hermione leaned over to get a better look. "It appears to be a safety deposit box key. I… wonder what is in there?"

"I am almost positive it is clues to your identity, but who knows? It could have been the biscuits that should have gone with this tea." He looked down in to his mug sadly.

Hermione stared at him a long time opening and closing her mouth. Finally she could not hold it in any more and started laughing. She laughed so long and hard it could probably rightly be called hysteria, but when she was done she felt better.

"I think we can rule out the biscuits." She finally gasped out.

"In the safety deposit box or in the cupboards?" he asked hopefully.

"In either one. I don't think you want to eat anything in here." Looking at the date on the tea tin he was pretty sure she was correct.

"Well, I don't know what a safety deposit box is, but that is where we should search next. Is it something your parents would keep in the house?" He looked around as though expecting the box to appear out of thin air.

"No, it would be in a bank. I am sure the same one these receipts have been deposited in to." she picked up the receipts she had still been clutching when she went to the piano.

"Ah, so muggles use banks too, I thought it was all those little plastic cards." He motioned with his fingers in a "about this size" way.

"They do use credit cards, but those cards are linked to a bank account that has money in it. Sort of, not in the way a Gringotts vault does, that is more like what muggles call a safety deposit box. Except the box is a lot smaller." Hermione wasn't quite sure how to explain the muggle banking system since she wasn't certain she fully understood it.

"It sounds overly complicated." Draco said standing up and taking his mug to the sink.

With a wave of her wand Hermione cleaned the mugs and put them away "The bank my parents used is not too far from here. It is only a twenty minute walk."

The pair walked in companionable silence. Hermione was surprised to find that she was not uncomfortable walking with Draco. He was equally surprised, she did not require the constant pampering and flattering of the other girls he knew. It was oddly nice to simply walk along quietly.

Once at the bank it took a bit of convincing, and Hermione suspected a condundus charm on Draco's behalf to get the bank manager to allow her access to her parents safety deposit box, even though she had all of the necessary paperwork in order.

Once inside the room set aside for them with the small box in front of her, Hermione was suddenly terrified at what she would find in the box. With shaking hands she slid the key home.

Inside she found a sealed letter with her name on it and a ring. The ring was beautiful silver with a very intricate "G" in the center.


	8. The Contents of the Box

There were other items in the small box, an ornate candlestick, a small bag of other jewelry, but it was the ring that stood out. It was very obviously a signet ring, meant to seal letters with wax and establish identity.

Neither Hermione nor Draco said anything as they stared down at the contents of the box.

Finally Draco said "Scoop all of that up, we need to leave here _now_."

Obeying the urgency in his voice, Hermione grabbed everything from the box and shoved it in to her small bag. Draco took her by the elbow and quickly walked her from the bank to a place where they could safely apparate back to Hogsmeade.

"Draco what…?" Hermione began, only to be silenced by Draco with a finger to his lips. With a frown she was quiet, confused by his tense facial expression.

Draco didn't say another word as he ushered them quickly to Hogwarts. Nor did he allow them to stop when people greeted them. He kept a hand on Hermione's elbow and strode quickly and determinedly to the Head's common room.

Once inside he poured both of them a firewhiskey and sat down on the overstuffed chair on "her" side of the room and ran his hand through his hair. He was clearly relieved to be safe within the halls of Hogwarts, but what Hermione did not understand was _why_ he was so relieved.

After a time he said "That ring… that is not a good thing to find locked up in your parent's vault, Hermione."

"Why? Whose is it? What does it mean?" His strange behavior was starting to frighten her. Sitting across from him she waited as patiently as she could.

It was quite some time before he answered her. "That is the seal of the Greengrass family. It likely has several alarms that go off if anyone touches it who is not a Greengrass."

Now it made sense "And I touched it, so…"

"So whoever the Greengrasses have set to watch for that ring to be disturbed were going to land all over us very quickly." He looked down at her bag like it could potentially explode.

Fearfully Hermione put on a glove and pulled the items from her bag and set them on the table in front of her. She was careful not to touch anything with her bare skin.

"I don't understand how my parents could have had these things in their safety deposit box." Hermione frowned at the objects before her.

"There was a letter with your name on it… if… if you want me to leave while you open it…" Draco had no idea why he was suddenly being considerate of her feelings when he had spent seven years being incredibly _in_ considerate of them.

"NO!" she said quickly and perhaps a bit louder than she had intended. "No, I mean, you are welcome to stay if you want that is, you don't have to if there is something else you need to do…"

"I will stay." He said quietly. Noticing the way her hands shook as she started to pick up the envelope, Draco reached out to steady her hands. When he did his pinky finger brushed over hers causing their marks to come in to contact.

When they did… something clicked. A feeling he couldn't describe roared to life inside of him. A feeling of deep possessiveness. From the way her cheeks flushed he guessed Hermione must have felt something as well. Neither of them mentioned it. She did, however, manage to still the trembling in her hands.

Sliding her fingernail under the envelope's seal Hermione shook out the letter and unfolded it. The handwriting was her father's.

My Dearest Daughter Hermione,

If you are reading this it means your mother and I are dead or missing. It also means we did not explain the circumstances of your birth before that happened.

We have known for some time that we are potentially in danger. The headmaster of your school, Professor Dumbledore came to see us and explained the dangerous war you are embroiled in. We wished to have you returned to us immediately but we, as well as your headmaster, knew that it was unlikely to stop you from continuing on with the battle, whether you were willing or not. That merely being away would not guarantee your safety, in fact it would likely do the opposite.

It was decided that for your own safety as well as ours that the safest place for you was at your school where very powerful people could help to protect you. We were told we were also in danger from this extremist group. Your headmaster offered to put us in to protective custody. Before that happens I knew I needed to explain your background to you. In case I could not do so in person I am writing this letter. God willing you will never need to read it.

When you came to us your mother had several miscarriages and two infants who did not survive birth. We had finally decided upon adoption. It was your mother's wish that you never know. She never wanted you to feel like anyone had not wanted you when she had wanted you so very desperately.

You were no more than three or four months old when we took you from the hospital. All that we knew about your past was that you had been abandoned on a bus inside a bag with the other objects you have found in the safety deposit box. We were unable to finalize the adoption until you were two as every avenue to find your birth parents had to be exhausted first. But we were allowed to take you home and love you.

The objects you were found with may be a key to your past but we cannot know for certain. They had been kept in police custody until quite recently. Your headmaster was able to secure them for you and said that when the time you would know what to do with them. I certainly hope he was correct.

Your mother and I are packing to leave now. We have been assured we will be reunited when the war is over. I do not know when Dumbledore will send people for us. I hope it is soon you know how your mother gets when left to pack for too long. I suspect we will have everything except the garden trellis in our bags if I am not watchful.

Know that you were wanted and loved from the moment we laid eyes upon you. Never doubt that.

Your loving father,

Chris Granger 1997/06/28

Hermione silently handed the letter to Draco to read. After he laid it aside she said "This was written two days before Dumbeldore died. And only weeks before I obliviated them."

Draco did not know how to respond. If he had not been sent to kill Dumbledore, Hermione's parents would likely still be alive.

As though sensing his thoughts, Hermione squeezed his hand as she stood up. "Don't think on it. There is no guarantee that he could have got them to safety. He was already dying."

Draco had been told this by Snape after their escape, but it did not make him feel any better.

Hermione picked up the other piece of paper that was with the letter. It was an old news clipping dated March 26th 1980.

 ** _"Infant Girl Found Abandoned on Bus in London. Birth Parents Sought."_**

"I don't understand what any of this means." Hermione fretted, pouring them both another glass of firewhiskey."

"It means we need to find out who or what is in Astoria Greengrass's tomb." Draco said somberly.


	9. Blaise and Pansy

**Chapter 8**

As much as Hermione and Draco really wanted to go immediately to the tomb, both agreed it would be indelicate to demand to see the body of a child presumed dead for almost two decades.

"Then what am I going to do?" Hermione slumped over and held her face in her hands.

Draco could not stand to see her look so defeated. "We." He said calmly.

Hermione looked up, confused "What?"

"What are WE going to do. You aren't in this alone. Not anymore." Draco reached out to wipe the tears from her face with his thumb. His thumb gently brushed across her slightly open lips, relishing in the warm breath that washed across his fingers.

Hermione's eyes widened as Draco slowly leaned in.

"Ahem…" the painting of the four founders coughed behind them. It was Helga Hufflepuff. "You have visitors at the door."

"I am going to burn that painting." Draco growled causing Helga to harrumph in outrage and Hermione to giggle.

It was Blaise and Pansy.

Pansy smirked when she saw the two sitting on the couch and nudged Blaise. "You owe me 5 galleons."

Blaise returned Pansy's smirk, "OK, OK."

"What is this about?" Draco glared at the two suspiciously.

"Oh," Pansy waived her hand airily "we just had a bet going on how long it would take before you were sharing the same side of the common room."

Draco rolled his eyes while Hermione blushed. Their responses only amused the two friends.

Just then Pansy noticed the objects on the table, which the two being so caught up in one another had forgot to remove before allowing guests inside. She gasped. "Draco, that is some serious prison time to have that signet ring! How could you allow Hermione to be in possession of it! Hogwarts won't protect her when the Aurors come to arrest her for this!"

"How do you know I didn't steal it?" asked Draco stalling for time while he could figure out any plausible lie that would explain the presence of a ring that for all intents and purposes held the very power of the Greengrass fortune and influence with a simple press in to a wax seal.

Pansy rolled her eyes "Because you are essentially a coward who doesn't want to go to Azkaban."

She waved him off when he started to protest his cowardice "Any of us would be terrified to go there, Draco."

Looking at Hermione, Pansy said very sternly "I don't know how you got that, but you need to put it back at once. Your Gryffindor bravery will not protect you from the fury of the Greengrasses. If you have used that they have the right to demand life in Azkaban and being a war hero won't spare you!"

Hermione was rather shocked by Pansy's attitude. She almost sounded like she didn't want her to get in to trouble.

Pansy notice the look Hermione gave her "Oh grow up, Granger. I have. We aren't on opposite sides of a war any longer. I am not looking to get in to Draco's pants so that is no longer an issue."

"No longer….?" Hermione started.

"Shut it Pansy." Draco interrupted.

Blaise, who had been ignored all of this time, had started to look at the other objects on the table and picked up the stack of papers before Hermione could grab them back. He dropped them back on the table and looked at her speculatively.

"This is serious Granger." He said quietly.

All Hermione really knew about Blaise was that he had taken no part in the war and had distanced himself from those who did. She knew he shared the same racist beliefs his friends had. He'd made that pretty clear over the years, but had not held them so strongly as to be willing to kill for them. Although perhaps he had changed his opinion somewhat since she had saved him from the fiendfyre in the Room of Requirements (*)

"I know." Hermione said quietly.

Blaise sighed and rubbed his face. "One of my Mum's husbands, who was a barrister before he died, worked on that case, Hermione. It was all very hush, hush from what I know. He left behind information about all of his cases, but there was almost nothing about that one."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other and then back at Blaise.

"What did he leave, Blaise?" Draco asked.

"Just the bare bones. What you could read in the papers. All of his other cases had pictures of the deceased, but not this one." He looked down at the muggle newspaper clipping thoughtfully.

Pansy, who had never been as stupid as she had pretended, picked up on the implications immediately. "Do you mean to say it is possible that Hermione is actually Astoria Greengrass?"

"Yeah… I don't know. I do know that there will be some who would not be happy to have a resurrected Greengrass heir." He and Pansy looked at each other.

"Daphne." Pansy said simply.

"So you don't think Daphne would be happy to have a resurrected twin?" Hermione asked. Having always wanted a sibling she could not fathom this.

"Look at it from her perspective" Draco said somberly. "she has been living in just the shadow of a dead twin. A live one would be infinitely worse. She has always had a bit of a self esteem issue."

Hermione scoffed at this. She could not imagine the beautiful blonde having any reasons to feel insecure. She had been born with beautiful sleek hair and clear lovely blue eyes. Not the bush of hair and plain brown eyes Hermione had been cursed with.

Pansy shrugged "It's true, she never felt like she could live up to the perfect image of her dead twin. And to find that twin alive and the one and only war heroine Hermione Granger on top of that? What isn't there to feel threatened by?"

Hermione was shocked it almost sounded like Pansy had complimented her in a backhanded way.

"Blaise, look in your step father's old things, see if you can find anything to help. Pansy, see if you can get anything out of Daphne." The two nodded and took their leave.

"Thank you Draco." Hermione said quietly. He nodded simply and the two spent the rest of the night reading quietly.

Draco did not go to his own side of the room.

Hermione spent the next week quietly observing Daphne.

What would it have been like to have this beautiful girl as her twin? Would they have been close? Would Hermione have been sorted in to Slytherin? How would that have affected the war? Would she have even been friends with Harry?

 **(*)Typically I stick to book canon and not the movies, but for this purpose it was Blaise and Crabbe who confronted Harry in the RoR not Crabbe and Goyle and Hermione pulled Blaise on to her broom.**


	10. The Ministry Ball and the Greengrasses

After a week of waiting for information and practically stalking Daphne and her little brother Pallas ( _their_ little brother? Hermione had wondered) she was no closer to an answer than when she had found her adoption papers.

That evening, after a night of studying in the library, Draco and Pansy entered the Head common room.

Draco draped a garment bag over the couch arm and told her "Get dressed, Pansy is doing your makeup and hair.

Pansy grinned like the cat that ate the canary and nodded.

"Do I dare ask what I am getting dressed and made up for?" Hermione ran her hand over the garment bag. Just the bag whatever was contained in was worth more than any ten pieces of clothing she owned. What did that say about what was inside?

"We are attending a Ministry Charity Ball tonight." Draco told her shoving the bag in to her arms.

"Oh that." Hermione had been invited but had begged off due to homework. A flimsy excuse, but she hated these events.

"Yes, that. And we are going." Draco started pushing her towards Pansy.

"WHY are we going and WHY did you buy me something to where and WHY are you telling me this last minute." She stood her ground.

"What would you have said if I just came up days ago and said 'buy yourself something nice, Granger, we are going to a Ministry function?" Draco smirked at her.

I would have reminded you we are supposed to be on first name terms." He rolled his eyes "And that I have plenty of clothes already."

That was actually a relief, she had not said "I would have told you it will be a snow fight in hell before I attend a function with you."

"Yeah, well, now you have more clothes, come on, do you think I have all night to watch you two debate who would have said what and when?" Pansy dragged her upstairs, forcefully pushed herf in to a chair and started on her hair and makeup.

Inside the bag was a beautiful red floor length backless gown. There were shoes and even… "No way, Pansy. I cannot borrow these from you, they must cost a fortune!" Inside were a matched bracelet necklace and earring set beautiful gold ruby and diamonds.

"They did, and you are damned right you couldn't borrow them from me! As if I would be caught dead in Gryffindor colors!" Pansy looked horrified at the very idea.

"Then who…" Hermione started.

"Draco bought them for you, now put them on and GO!" Pansy shoved her right back down the stairs she had dragged her up.

Draco was ready. Hermione had to admit he looked striking in his dress robes and diamond cufflinks. He no longer wore his hair in that stupid slicked back style.

"We are sending this jewelry set right back where it came from Malfoy!" Hermione told him sternly.

"I will remind you, we are on a first name basis now." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Using the headmistresses fireplace, the two flooed directly to the Ministry. Both ignored the flashes of photography.

"Hermione! Hermione!" One overly enthusiastic young reporter gushed "Why are you here with Mr. Malfoy? Are you two a couple?" Hermione could not help but notice she got "Hermione" and Draco was afforded "Mr. Malfoy"

She also could not help but notice the way the reporter was eyeing Draco. Now why should that bother her?

"Does it matter why we are here together? Grow up, we have. I will remind you, we are no longer on opposite sides of a war." Hermione snapped at her.

Draco grinned as he led her away "Pansy is going to be thrilled to see you quoted her in tomorrow's Daily Prophet."

"Oh why would they put something so trivial in the paper?" And why was she annoyed at him? Was it because he smiled back at that daft little dimbo?

Her blatant jealousy was not lost on Draco. He was as pleased as he was surprised by it.

It took about an hour of mingling, and telling more than one person it was none of their business why she was here with Draco, including Harry and Ginny, who just stared at her in stunned surprise, before they saw the Greengrasses.

Draco inspected the older couple and could not deny that Hermione looked like a cross between the two. She had the texture of Alastor Greengrasses hair but the color of Antheia's. Her facial features were a combination of the two. Thshape of Antheia's eyes mixed with the whisley brown of Alastor's.

Of course brown eyes and wavy hair did not a long lost pureblood princess make. Pulling a suddenly shy and reluctant Hermione behind him, Draco approached the Greengrasses.

"Mr. Greengrass, Mrs. Greengrass." He began politely "May I present Miss Hermione Granger?"

Both politely greeted her. Mrs. Greengrass noticed her jewelry "Oh what exquisite taste you have!"

"Thank you, but Draco actually purchased them for me." She said, without thinking about how that would sound.

"It is lovely, when you are finished with it, we are always looking for war orphan donation items." Mrs. Greengrass smiled "Unless of course it was for a special occasion…?"

"You are collecting for war orphans? Oh you must let me know how to donate!" Draco watched Hermione suddenly bloom in to her element.

"Oh yes, it is so important that those of us more fortunate remember all that was lost in that dreadful war." Hermione could actually see the sincerity of the older woman. "if you would like, you may join us at our table, we can discuss it further, if you have a genuine interest?"

"Oh, I do! Draco, do you mind terribly?" Hermione was uncertain, he had not told her where they would be sitting.

"Your wish is my command." He smiled at her.

As they started walking towards the Greengrass table Draco happened to notice a small birthmark on Antheia Greengrass's back. It perfectly matched the one on Hermione's. He placed his hand on that spot to hide it from other prying eyes. His heart skipped a beat when Hermione smiled up at him. He realized suddenly he actually had his hand on her bare back. He smiled down at her.

The two women spent the night discussing current political and charity events they were both interested in. Draco and Alastor merely smiled indulgently at the two.

"Oh it is so lovely to meet a young woman so interested in current affairs! I wish my Daphne would take an interest."

Hermione felt the need to defend her (maybe sister) classmate "I am certain she just needs a cause to be passionate about!"

At the end of the evening Draco took Hermione home. She could not stop enthusing about the new projects she had discovered through Antheia.

Draco could not stop wondering about the birthmark.


	11. Going to Narcissa

Draco knew he was in way over his head, so he went to the one person who always knew what to do in a bad situation. His mother.

He had become something of a joke in his younger years for saying "Wait until my father hears about this." But the real joke was if he ever threatened people with his mother most knew to duck and cover.

Sending her an owl to meet for lunch he was not surprised to get one back within the hour with an invitation to her favorite restaurant.

And it was always phrased as her invitation, at her leisure and to her favorite place. But Draco knew without a doubt there was no one his mother would not stand up to or defy to protect him. Including lying right to the Dark Lord's face.

She would know what to do now and how to best proceed. Draco knew with a certainty that Hermione Granger was in fact the missing and presumed dead Astoria Greengrass. His betrothed.

 _His_.

The word whispered its way around in his heart. Let the entire world have all of the equal rights for women it wanted. Let the world tell him his wife did not belong to him. Draco knew that his wife would belong to him alone. And after all he had lost and given up to that mad man who had taken over his home by Merlin he would have this!

Not that he intended to keep her barefoot and pregnant, he was no Weasley! No, his wife would have a brilliant career, or go in to charities. Or by Salazar if she wanted to become the Minister of Magic he would throw all of the Malfoy fortunes and resources in to making that happy.

As long as when he got home she was curled up on a couch with a book open in her lap and a magicked cup of tea long forgotten. As long as she took his hand when she woke up.

And maybe just maybe… there would be a beautiful little boy or girl who would be curled up there with her.

His.

He was smiling to himself picturing their perfect little family. Not at the Manor, no children of his would grow up in the home where a mad man let a snake eat one of his school teachers at the dining room table.

Narcissa admired her son as he sat at their table smiling. He had weathered the war perhaps a little worse for wear but he was healing.

"My darling" she said, kissing his temple.

"Mother." Draco was always pleased to see her, she had been his rock, his companion and his savior more times than he could count. She was his entire world. He knew she would be a wonderful grandmother.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a second weekday luncheon with my handsome son?" She smiled at him.

"Mother... things have become… complicated…" He did not know where to begin.

"Draco Malfoy, if you have got a girl with child out of wedlock I know several severing spells…" Draco winced closing his legs tighter.

"No mother" he hissed, looking around embarrassed. "Not that kind of complicated."

Narcissa sat back with a smile and put her napkin in her lap. She ummoned a waiter and ordered her tea, Da Hong Pao, with a cup magicked to serve and hold it at precisely 93c.

Narcissa knew Draco had not got a young lady "in trouble" as the saying goes, but it should help him put things in perspective. There were few things worse to a male than the prospect of having his nether bits magically severed.

When she had taken a sip of her tea and waived the waiter of she looked over her mug at him. "Go on dear."

Looking around furtively he opened his hand with the Greengrass ring on his palm and quickly closed it once he knew his mother recognized it.

A year of having that monster in their home had taught Narcissa how to school her features and show nothing. "Would you care to explain?"

And so he did, starting with the train ride and the trip to the Granger home. The adoption papers and the safety deposit box, which was like a bank vault you could hold in your hand. And no it did not have an extendable charm on it.

"So… how many people know?" Right to the most important parts.

"Me, Hermione, Pansy and Blaise. Probably Theo because Blaise can't shut up to him." Draco sighed, those two were as bad as pre-teen witches.

Narcissa closed her eyes for a moment. "OK, it is impractical to squash this. So how can we make certain the family is seen in the most flattering light?"

And… right to the "how can we profit from this." Spoken like a true Malfoy. But Draco knew how to play his parents, when he wasn't competing with a psychopath.

"If this is true, and I have every reason to suspect it is, we Malfoy's will have not only found the long lost Greengrass heir, but she happens to be the war heroine Hermione Granger AND my betrothed? There is no downside in this for us, Mother. We may be able to rebuild our name." he tented his fingers the way he so often saw his father doing.

"I suppose she is not the worst choice. Dreadful muggle ideology, of course, she will have to stop that at once but…" Draco laughed.

"Really? You think the poster child for muggleborn rights is going to give that up because YOU tell her to? She was tortured in front of us in our own dining room, Mother, I think it is safe to say that whatever we request of her she is going to do the exact opposite." He laughed again.

"Mmmmm… much like a pureblood would, so not completely hopeless." Way to put a spin on this, Mother, Draco thought. "And she is attractive, I suppose, and fairly intelligent…"

Draco interrupted "Mother, she is more than "fairly" intelligent, she is known as the brightest witch of her age for a reason."

"So we can expect an intelligent grandchild." She continued as though he had not interrupted her. "Your father will have fits of course…"

"All the better reason to elope with her and marry her tonight." Draco grumbled. He had still not forgiven the man for nearly ruining their family and forcing him into taking the Dark Mark.

"But I can manage your father." This time there was the barest gritting of her teeth. He knew better than to push too far.

"First we will have to break this to the Greengrasses, there will be magical parentage tests, press meetings to hold." And right to the practical necessities.

This was why he had contacted his mother.

"But of course, first we have to make certain she is Astoria before we proceed." Draco sighed, of course they did, there was no way to just say "We touched pinkies and now I want to keep her" without sounding like a nut.

"How do we accomplish this?" He knew his mother would have an answer.

And she did not disappoint. "We look at the marriage contracts and see if you are still bound by them, of course."

Of course. His mother assumed he knew far more than he did.

"And exactly how would we do that? Where is the contract?" He had never actually seen it. Hell, until recently he hadn't known it existed!

"In the Malfoy vaults, of course." She smiled, he was sure she was messing with him.


	12. The Contract

Narcissa and Draco finished lunch and made their way to Gringotts. Draco always hated having to take the cart to their bank vault. While he loved flying on his broom, he hated flying or moving fast under anyone else's control.

Feeling very grateful to have made it to their vault in one piece he paused to offer his mother his hand to help her out of the cart.

At least the goblins were still motivated by pure gold lust and did not hold Voldemort's attack on the bank against his followers. Or at least if they did they did allow it to stop them from doing business with anyone wealthy enough to have an ancestral vault.

When he was very young he had loved coming to the vaults and playing with the items found inside. It wasn't until he was older that he realized some of those objects had been very dark artifacts.

There were far fewer of those these days. Not just in their vaults, but anywhere. After the war the Ministry had gone on a crusade to destroy many of the magical items that held dark magic. He thought it was a shame. Not because he wanted to use them, but because it represented one more way in which wizard history was being rewritten and changed.

He would never admit it, but he had a real interest in history. He was one of the few who had ever bothered to pay attention in Professor Binn's class. Along with Hermione, of course.

He learned quickly that his future did not lay in history. He had suggested as a very young child that he might like to teach history when he was grown. His father let him know that menial tasks such as teaching were, in his father's opinion, beneath Malfoys.

Still, he admired tradition and history and considered it a shame that the Ministry was destroying objects out of fear. He knew he would be unlikely to be accepted as a Professor even if no longer felt it necessary to follow anything his father said. The man had destroyed any respect his son still had for him.

Once fully inside the vault, Narcissa dismissed the goblin who would wait outside in the cart for them. While the vault was well organized it was still huge. Draco had no idea where to begin. The place was filled with gold galleons, ancient home furnishings that were still worth a fortune, chest after chest of who knows what and that was before one even got to the magical artifacts.

The bookshelves alone were immense. Draco ran his hand along the spines of a few reading their titles and thinking about how much he would like to show this to Hermione.

He read one "Training your New Muggle Slave to Serve in a Wizard Home" and another "House Elves, the other Grey Meat". OK, maybe he wouldn't be showing these off to Hermione after all…

Narcissa watched her son lovingly. He was the pride of her life. This Granger girl would not have done as a suitable wife for her pureblood prince, but maybe as a pureblood she could be brought up to scratch. She would have to be taught her place among purebloods, of course. And something had to be done about her overly casual appearance, but Draco was correct, she was certainly intelligent.

Any influence she would have over the children's wizarding education would have to be limited so as not to prove an embarrassment to the family, naturally, but Narcissa was convinced she would be able to convince Draco to allow her to oversee the raising of the children. Yes, with the right influence and a proper nanny any of this muggle support non sense would be minimized in the impact it would have on her grandchildren.

Oh, she supposed she would have to keep up an illusion that the witch still had control. It wouldn't do to make an enemy of her. Or, more of an enemy she supposed. Still, she had learned manipulation at her mother's knee and refined it in Slytherin. The headstrong young Gryffindor would not know she was not completely in charge.

Yes, considering how to get around any mud… muggleborn, must remember that it is impolitic to say mudblood any longer, ideology would prove an amusing diversion for a time.

Draco paused only a moment in his examination of the vaults that would one day be his to pull out a chair for his mother. A wave of the wand saw the chair and small desk cleaned and made serviceable.

"Thank you, darling." Narcissa smiled up at Draco. He had always been considerate of her comfort and feelings. He would make a wonderful husband and father.

"Alright, Mother, where do I start looking for this contract? Can I just accio it?" he started to pull his wand back out when Narcissa stopped him with an amused smile.

"Only if you wish to be buried under thousands of parchments. There are many, many Malfoy marriage contracts in this vault.

Draco looked annoyed by this. "Alright, how do we find it?"

"Bring me that chest." Narcissa pointed to a chest across the room.

He did so, levitating it towards her with his wand. When she opened it he says dozens of parchments.

"Why aren't these, or at least the most recent ones with our barrister?" He could not understand why they bothered to pay expensive legal fees if they were just going to hoard everything in their vault. Weren't there others who could handle this?

"Because this contract is supposed to be null and void as your intended is presumed dead." Narcissa continued pouring over the old parchments.

Oh, right, no Astoria Greengrass meant there was no need to keep track of a marriage contract with her. His mother always had the knack for making him feel like a foolish young boy again.

It took almost an hour of searching before Narcissa finally found the chest they were looking for. It would have gone faster but she wanted to stop and reminisce about this marriage or that.

HA! Reminisce is what she called it! Gossip is what Draco called it. Or would have if his mother didn't frighten him in to behaving like a small boy again by threatening to reveal some very candid photos involving him and a bare behind and a white rug. Nope, there were some things one did not say to the woman who had those sort of photographs. One smiled and "reminisced".

"AH HA!" Narcissa cried triumphantly.

"You found it?" Draco rushed to her side.

"Your father's cousin used to brag that she had made a much better contract than I did. Here I have proof that was a lie!" She tucked the scroll into her robes.

"Mother," Draco said with exasperation "we are looking for MY contract, not cousin Nadine's."

"Oh, very well, spoil sport." Narcissa pulled another scroll from wihin her robes.

"You… how long ago did you find that?" Draco asked narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, it was in the second box, but I have so been enjoying reading over all of this history" She smiled up at him. "Snoop." Was another word one did not use with the threat of bare arse photos.

"Oh, and look here! It is intact and… activated? Is there something you neglected to tell me, my son?" She looked at him speculativelt.

"What does 'activated' mean? Draco was confused, dust covered and annoyed. In short in no mood to play guessing games.

"It means, Draco, that both of you have accepted the idea of marriage to one another." Draco knew his feelings finding out Hermione might return them was a revelation.

Could she really harbor a romantic interest in him? He had to find out.


End file.
